Chapter 208
Chapter 208
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 208
Chapter Title: The State of the Secular Kingdoms
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To sum it up, the moment Fernandez saw Fabiano burst onto the scene, his first thought was, *Overkill.*
Overkill. Fabiano wasn’t some brainless fool—at least not yet; he was holding back judgment as cautiously as possible. So his actions came off as excessive.
Suddenly appearing out of nowhere, smashing the tiles to bits, shouting “Brother!” at the top of his lungs, charging in with pure emotion... Every ritualistic gesture, like embracing a comrade returned from deployment, was dialed up to eleven.
But the instant he heard that this was Zephys’s order to make as much noise as possible, Fernandez read the intent behind Zephys—and Beorn Shieldbane pulling the strings.
So he bellowed, as arrogantly as he could.
“Make way, sheep of the Holy Pantheon!!”
Breaking down the meaning...
*I’m an inquisitor on official duty, a high-ranking cleric with extraterritorial rights.*
That was aimed at Sigard’s enforcers.
*Hey there, Your Highness Vicente. We go way back. Let’s catch up properly later.*
That went out to the Dane Inner Circle.
*For any other inquiries, contact the Inquisition. Or come at us with force right now if you dare.*
And that was for the intelligence agencies from various nations, slightly rattled by Fabiano’s show of force.
Finally...
*I haven’t fallen. Returning after mission complete.*
This one was for Zephys and the other inquisitors watching from somewhere.
Weaving multiple intents into a single phrase. That was basic training for Fernandez. He turned his head toward where the Inquisition headquarters lay.
*I’ve bought us some time.*
* * *
Zephys watched the scene unfold and let out a chuckle. “Heh.” Not the kind of mind game a kid under twenty could pull off. Though even someone over twenty wouldn’t have managed it easily.
“Do you even grasp what that meant, brothers?”
“Impressive.”
The Enmagicka brothers nodded in admiration. *Make as much noise as possible.* That’s what he’d passed along through Fabiano—draw every eye from every nation and faction straight to himself.
The Beitasser Papacy, which had gone eerily silent right after declaring the crusade, was losing trust and prestige across the international stage in direct proportion to the passage of time.
All eyes from the powers that be were locked on the northern sea lanes. The crusade’s backdrop was the detection of massive demon activity up north.
Thus, every port along the northern trade routes had the world’s attention riveted on it at this very moment. It wasn’t an exaggeration. Gaigern’s warning shots would have the intelligence agencies’ noses sniffing around here already.
So, in a situation where secrecy was impossible anyway, they needed time to play political games with the Papacy and the Abbot. Time for the panicked leadership to calm down.
*Make as much noise as possible. Sow confusion among the intelligence agencies.*
Draw eyes, secure time—no matter what. It was the most familiar kind of order for inquisitors assembling a task force to hunt demons.
As noisy as possible.
And so, fresh off a long detour back with zero prior intel, Fernandez had done just that.
At this point, displaying that level of judgment meant the signs of corruption weren’t clear-cut yet. An uncorrupted inquisitor was their “brother,” no matter the circumstances.
“Execute the operation. Protect the brother.”
“Protect the brother!”
At Zephys’s gesture, the Heretica lurking in the city surged forward.
* * *
With every eye on him, Fernandez slowly placed one hand on his sword hilt and drew his rosary with the other. With a soft *clink*, the Beitasser-embossed rosary unspooled long.
“A moment, Brother Arcangelo. We’ll need your time.”
“Affiliation?”
“Petrik, Third Enforcement Division under Fairn Royal Intelligence.”
Merlinport was a Fairn royal city, and the Royal Intelligence Bureau was one of the crown’s strongest trump cards. Fernandez could read the tension in this professional assassin’s body.
“It hasn’t even been a year since the heretic outbreak in the royal court... and now you mean to escort an inquisitor?”
Just then, a low voice rang out from the rooftop of a nearby warehouse by the docks. Fernandez snapped his head up, spotting the familiar face. Zephys. The seasoned Demonica giant glared at Petrik with a voice like rumbling thunder, as if ready to tear him apart.
Petrik flinched and scanned his surroundings. One, two... Now five inquisitors had appeared on rooftops, in alleys, behind walls, encircling them.
“...The crown won’t forget this.”
“If we have sinned, we shall be judged before the Lord alone.”
“Arrogant bastards! It was just two weeks ago that you begged the secular kingdoms for troops! Is that all you have to say after stirring up political fallout with church authority and then backing out?”
“All?”
*Boom!*
Zephys leaped down, shattering the tiles just like Fabiano had. Fernandez casually swatted away a couple of flying shards headed his way and thought,
*He’s pushing too hard.*
*We’re in a tight spot. Gotta play the part, even if it doesn’t suit me.*
Zephys hated exposing himself publicly like this. Inquisitors aside from the Demonica loathed revealing their identities to secular society.
The Demonica were special forces deployed only to collapsed secular zones anyway, and they didn’t give a damn... But Zephys, as their handler, thought and acted like a Heretica.
For a man like that to move so aggressively meant the situation was graver than it seemed. Zephys strode forward and planted himself in front of Petrik.
A long shadow stretched before Petrik’s eyes. The Demonica’s massive frame loomed, backlight leaving only cold blue eyes glinting as he stared down.
“Religious tribunal jurisdiction.”
“What...”
At Zephys’s words, the encircling inquisitors chanted in unison.
“Before the religious tribunal, we hold judicial authority over our verdicts and executions, unbound by secular kingdom laws.”
“Immediate execution rights for heretics.”
“Post-trial, confirmed heretics have no right of appeal, unbound by secular kingdom status or laws.”
“Exorcism force commandeering rights.”
“In trials, detentions, interrogations, or arrests, the lead inquisitor may commandeer secular military authority, unbound by secular kingdom laws.”
“Ecclesiastical sacrament execution rights.”
“The lead inquisitor holds authority equivalent to a Holy Pantheon bishop in operations and heretic trials, with rights to perform all sacraments.”
With that final line, Zephys slowly gripped Petrik’s shoulder. Petrik shuddered under the iron strength of that massive hand.
“You’ll regret this. Fairn—not just our crown, but every kingdom will question this incident...”
“By the authority guaranteed by the Holy Pantheon, we shall now conduct heresy judgment and purification rites on our brother. This is the will of the Abbot and His Holiness the Pope, above all else. Heed it.”
Petrik clamped his lips shut and closed his eyes briefly. Then he shook his head and shouted,
“Clear the way for the brothers!!”
The Sigard enforcers lining the alley parted, opening a path. Only then did Zephys release Petrik’s shoulder and brush past him as he stepped aside.
Fernandez and his group followed Zephys’s lead, with the inquisitors surrounding them protectively, matching stride.
At that moment, a knight in a green cloak bearing the Dane royal crest approached slowly, arms spread wide.
“Lord Cerned.”
“Hm. Wrong guy.”
“His Highness Vicente has many concerns.”
The knight clearly knew exactly who Fernandez was. Fernandez smirked and met his gaze. The knight’s eyes widened.
“You...?”
“Forgive me for meeting a Round Table knight like this. I couldn’t offer proper respect.”
The knight flipped up his visor with a grin. One of the knights dispatched to the Great Wilderness Eastern Coalition forces.
“No need for forgiveness! But this ‘concern’ from His Highness... it’s not the political-diplomatic kind, is it?”
“Would it be? His Highness expressed worry for his friend’s well-being.”
“Much appreciated. Tell him I’ll visit soon. And you were Inner Circle? I remember you as just one of the escort knights back then...”
The Dane Kingdom was a feudal state brimming with martial spirit, where knights and mages handled high nobility and administrative roles. The Round Table knights forming the royal core were each great lords of regions, so the crown needed their swords at hand.
They could use guard knights for public needs aplenty, but royal business wasn’t always public. Some matters demanded secrecy and silence—that’s where the Dane Inner Circle came in.
Like the Knight of the Skies in his past life. Fernandez’s brow furrowed briefly before smoothing out. Noting it, the knight said meaningfully,
“His Highness has deep concerns for his friends. I was guarding Lady Abellesas at the time.”
The knight dipped his head slightly to Abel behind Fernandez and leaped away. Zephys chuckled at the sight.
“You’re popular, eh?”
“Ended up that way somehow.”
“Watch yourself. Popularity’s poison to a cleric.”
“Seems Brother’s popularity is skyrocketing too, with moves like that...”
“Hah! Advanced in the world at my age. Me too.”
Zephys barked a laugh and clapped Fernandez’s shoulder.
“Glad to see you unscathed. Welcome back, brother.”
“Demonica Grade 2 Inquisitor Fernandez Cerned, reporting back post-mission, Brother. Thrilled to see you well too.”
“The Abbot will be pleased too... Probably.”
Zephys gripped Fernandez’s shoulder firmly before letting go. He strode ahead with lighter steps.
*He just checked my gear.*
*Made sure the holy sword’s intact.*
*We’ve cleared one big hurdle. Zephys has strong sway at HQ.*
*Won’t be smooth sailing all the way. Let’s see.*
Feizashi Wildcast wore an intrigued expression.
* * *
Meanwhile, at Inquisition Keep—where the sign “Heretics: Trespassers Will Be Deemed As Such” loomed threateningly over the restricted zone—a single purple banner hung.
The ornate papal seal: sword-key, splendid crown, royal hall. It fluttered in the gentle spring breeze.
Gazing out the window at it, Beorn Shieldbane sighed.
“Ground’s gonna swallow us whole.”
“My apologies.”
The pinnacle of inquisitors, each a bishop-level figure. The Inquisition’s Abbot wielded power equivalent to an archbishop, even cardinal with papal election rights.
Yet even he was made to observe protocol meticulously by the man now leisurely flipping through reports before him. Beorn knew it was mere formality—the Pope had read that report over seven times already.
Still, he pored over it with gasps of admiration here, sighs there, as if reading it fresh. Truth be told, Beorn understood; it was impossible not to marvel each time.
*Thud.*
The Pope carefully closed the report. He took a sip of tea and eyed Beorn.
“Truly, the Lord’s presence. Slaying two greater demons in one era. Where’s there been a feat like that?”
“Indeed.”
“Saying ‘secular matters to the secular’ doesn’t fit when the stage is this grand. Ha. Wonder if we should call it fortune or regret.”
“My apologies.”
“Why you? You made the best call. Preparation is best in excess—that’s the inquisitor’s creed, no?”
“Indeed.”
“Hahaha, loosen up! You think I’d dismiss you?”
Someone had to take responsibility. Playing dumb wouldn’t fly for an incident with such massive influence across factions; letting it slide without action would tank the Church’s authority.
Some secular monarchs believed the uproar was a smokescreen to back a specific nation. In this tangled mess of motives, large-scale troop deployments always hit defenses and treasuries hard.
Was the Holy Pantheon Church trying to meddle in secular politics? The suspicion seemed all too valid. Other churches, directly hit by it, were frothing and sending petitions against Beitasser.
In all that, no one taking responsibility wouldn’t end it. Beorn had drafted and submitted a recommendation for his successor the moment he recognized his misstep.
“Someone has to take the blame.”
“No need for it to be us.”
“...Pardon?”
“If someone used the Church, why can’t the Church use them in turn?”
The Pope smiled casually at Beorn. Beorn met those unfathomable deep eyes with a chill running down his spine.
“The Empire... you mean?”
“We remember the Emperor using the Church’s endorsed saint for his schemes. The current Emperor expressed no regrets over it.”
“The current...”
“Yes. The current one.”
Beorn fell silent at the implications. The Church never directly intervened in secular politics or diplomacy. That tacit agreement preserved its authority.
It never meddled in politics or diplomacy. If it seemed to, it was due to demons or heretics. That belief bridged kingdoms and Church. No need for enmity—at least for “human affairs.”
But these words were tantamount to the Pope declaring direct intervention in imperial politics. In the current mess, it was the only play... but far from welcome.
“The fallout if exposed won’t be small.”
“Fortunately, we’re experts at cover-ups.”
Demons corrupt merely by being revealed. This was the Inquisition, specialists in erasing such knowledge.
Thus, the Pope was implicitly ordering a new operation: no reports, no proposals, no papers—a covert op.
*Pin the Church’s sins on the Imperial House and slip away.*
That was the summary. Beorn quietly lifted his teacup. Seeing it, the Pope laughed heartily. Beorn found that innocent smile terrifying.
“When’s our saintly brother arriving?”
“Should be almost here.”
“Looking forward to it!”
Beorn nodded silently.